


There's No Way In Hell We'll Ever Live To See Through This, So..

by InfinityofNeonStars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Harry Potter - Freeform, M/M, Multi Chapter, Not Beta Read, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-01 16:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8631187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfinityofNeonStars/pseuds/InfinityofNeonStars
Summary: The Weasley's decide to celebrate Thanksgiving (because I am violently American and can't get it through to myself that Thanksgiving is an American holiday apparently) and invite the remaining two Malfoy's-- Narcissa and Draco. Thanksgiving goes well, and over the next few holidays they spend more and more time with the Weasley's as Draco finds himself pining after none other than Harry Potter. Along the way, there's adventures and life saving on both sides.





	1. Thanksgiving Even Though This Isn't America

**Author's Note:**

> Slow build up but hey, it's getting there. Probably gonna be a long one, y'all, and I'm super excited! My first long chaptered story ever, and it's written all by myself and it's Drarry!! ^^ (Also if you're into beta-ing and maybe keeping me on track for weekly updating, you could tooooootally hmu on kik @ooneonstarsoo or on tumblr @dirtypanic ((and feel free to ignore that it's an extremely hipster blog!)))

Thanksgiving was an American holiday. That was Draco's first problem with this get together. The second problem was that it was a Potter-Weasley get together. The third problem was that he had no choice in going.

  
After the war, the Malfoy's had spent the next two years trying to rebuild the family name. Of course, people were reluctant to believe or help them. Of course, Potter had spoken on Narcissa's and Draco's behalf, but his father's name lay tarnished. He died not even a year after the war, sitting in Azkaban. Draco wasn't upset about it really, his father deserved it after the things he'd done, but then, he deserved it too, didn't he? All he wanted to do since his father's death was make up for his mistakes and live up to his expectations. Lucius Malfoy may have been nothing but a bad man to the general public, but they weren't raised by him. Lucius loved Draco. Draco was his pride and joy, he'd never have done anything to hurt him, despite popular belief.

  
So he was trying to rebuild the name for himself, his mother, his father. Potter and the Weasley's were an all-time favourite with the public, of course, and while it was a bit awkward, Narcissa and Molly had become somewhat unlikely friends. They weren't exactly close, no, but things were.. friendly. Somehow, despite the rest of the family being unable to, Molly separated the person from the family name. Narcissa was more than appreciative, though no one else may have been able to tell.

  
And so it was that Narcissa was practically dragging Draco along to a Weasley-Potter get together. Of course, Draco refused to let anyone know that he didn't want to be there. He'd act as he'd been taught from a young age: with dignity, grace, and as much politeness as possible. He'd keep the Better-Than-You attitude out of way, not because of how important they were to the public, but because.. Because he wanted to be a better person. His public speech after the war wasn't total bogus. He wanted to make up for his mistakes.

  
That didn't mean he'd be happy about being there, around the Potter-Weasleys.

* * *

 

It was late Thursday night when they arrived just outside the Burrow. Draco had taken up a weird sense of fashion in Narcissa's opinion, but after the war, she didn't much care to try to change or mold Draco. He was happy, and that's what mattered to her the most of all, reputation be damned. Still, she thought it was odd to wear open flannel over a blank black shirt with camouflage jeans, but it was a casual affair and he was happy, so what did it matter? He certainly didn't look bad, just not traditional.

  
It was chilly as Narcissa and Draco walked up the long path to the Burrow. Draco admired the small lights that looked like faeries lighting their way. He reminded himself to ask about them, hoping he wouldn't run out of conversation pieces, doubting he would all the same. He tried to deny the feeling of nervousness and reminded himself that everything would be fine. He'd made it this far, hadn't he? He lived in the home of the bad guys and followed blindly, fought in Merlin knows how many battles, lost, had the odds against him but still made it out alive. He'd be damned if a Potter-Weasley get together would be the death of him.

  
Molly was the first to greet them. She opened the door wide, smiling and shaking Draco's hand in place of the hug she had given Narcissa. The Weasley's and Potter stopped as the door opened. Okay, so everyone was a bit nervous how the night would go. Everyone but Molly.

  
"Everyone, dinner will be ready in an hour. Now really, if you all would go in the front room so I could finish cooking in peace! Oh, Narcissa-- there's a chair right there, would you like to sit? I simply have to tell you about what McGregor did yesterday! You see, he was pulling gnomes out of the gar-" Molly's voice cut off as Draco entered the living room, cluttered and homely looking. He wasn't surprised by the interior design, it wasn't anything close to what his home was like, but he didn't think it was ugly in the least. He found it welcoming.

  
He was too busy looking at the family pictures to notice everyone staring at him. George was the first to speak up, jumping up to offer his hand. Draco was startled, having not been paying attention, as he turned, George's hand right in front of him. He kept his calm and cool composure as he slid his hands heartily into the other man's, smiling as he offered his greeting. Voices broke out afterwards, no longer was everyone staring at him, but at whoever and wherever each respective person was focusing their attention.

  
George pulled him into a conversation easily, talking about his business, Draco paying only half attention and giving advice when possible. He found himself genuinely enjoying himself. After the war he had spent quite an amount of time reassessing everything he previously believed to be true. He concluded that he was much, much too harsh in judging, and while he knew he should have known better, and at times secretly felt bad for judging people based solely on their family name, that's how he was raised. He wished things had been different.

  
It seemed like no time at all had passed when Molly called time for dinner. The room and table had been enlarged to fit everyone, but it was still cramped. Having let everyone else sit down first (because he was the guest, after all) he got seated between his mother and-- Potter. Inwardly Draco groaned. He didn't harbor any negative feelings for Potter any longer but, did it really have to be him? Why couldn't he be sat next to George or the dragon trainer from fourth year-- Bill? He bit his lip gently, smiling at Potter as he sat down. For a minute longer there was small talk as Draco tried to stare anywhere but at Potter.

  
"Alright, alright! I know that Thanksgiving is an American holiday but I think it's quite nice that they go around being thankful at least once a year, unlike some people."

  
"Actually," a familiar voice began. "Thanksgiving isn't really about what you're thankful for. It originated from the pilgrims-"

  
"Hermione, dear, if you wouldn't mind-"

  
"All I'm saying is-"

  
"Mione, let her finish, I'm bloody hungry."

Draco looked down the table to see the Weasley from his year, Ron, talking to Granger. If he remembered correctly, they married last year, but he still felt awkward enough to use last names.

"I want to go down the table and have everyone say one thing they're thankful for! I'll begin, if you don't mind." Molly started up again. "I'm thankful for new beginnings." She looked at Narcissa. "For new friends, acquaintances, and family."

When they got to Draco, his voice was smooth. His mother had said something about health and family. Draco didn't think he was thankful for much, but there was one thing he'd always be grateful for.

"I'm thankful for second chances." His words were full and resounding in the large room. They sounded sincere and for the first time the entire night, he felt that all attention was on him in a good way. He smiled as he turned to face Potter, indicating it was his turn.

"I'm thankful for all of you, mates. Best family I've ever had, not that there was much competition to start with." That earned a few laughs and Draco felt.. fuzzy. His arm kept touching Potter's and their knees were almost touching at all times, and he felt so.. genuine. There was a bubbling in his veins, as there always was when it came to Potter, but this time, no jealousy, envy, or hatred came with it.

* * *

 

It took almost two hours for the feast to end. There were no leftovers on any of the plates. Everyone felt full and heavy, and possibly a bit sleepy. Half the family had congregated back to the living room, leaving only Molly, Narcissa, Draco, Potter, and Granger in the room. Potter and Granger were having a discussion about something or another while Draco spaced off a bit, daydreaming about.. Well, he wasn't sure what, exactly, he was daydreaming about, it all seemed to run together.

"Draco? What do you think about all of this?" Granger was asking. He shook his head.

"I've no idea what you were conversing about, Granger." They were standing closer to him. He felt his magic thrum under his skin the closer Potter got. He wasn't sure why-- he wasn't nervous and he had no reason to be even if he was. It was warm like Firewhiskey in his veins and as he leaned marginally closer to Potter, it felt like fireworks erupting. On the table, a dish burst into pieces. Draco almost felt embarrassed-- he hadn't had had an accidental magic since he was nine or ten. Of course, for everyone else, there was no way to tell who did it. He was happy about that.

Everyone looked a bit surprised. Molly shook her head gently and used magic to piece it back together. The rest of the night went quickly, eating was over with and there wasn't much to say when the entire family lived in the same (though, admittedly, larger than previously) house, and no one was really conversing with Draco but Granger, and that was all politics, nothing to remember.

* * *

 

It was almost midnight by the time Draco and his mother arrived home. They said their goodnights leisurely. Draco had nowhere to be until Monday, and his mother had nothing to do until Wednesday. As Draco was walking up the stairs, his mother stopped him.

"Curious how Molly's plate broke, isn't it, darling? You haven't had an accident like that in years."

Draco paused. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please, luv, a mother can always sense her child's magic when it acts up, no matter how old they are." She smiled up at him. "Sleep well."

"Goodnight, mother."

It only took a few minutes of lying in bed for Draco to fall into a deep, easy sleep.


	2. Accidents and a Brief Mention of What Starts Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know where this went. Explosions, St. Mungos, temporary bonding, forced room mates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd! Hmu on kik @ooneonstarsoo or dirtypanic.tumblr.com to beta for me! Happy reading, and thank you for giving it a chance!

A week went by peacefully before Draco heard from anyone outside of family. An owl was waiting for him when he got home from a conference with a minister from another country wanting to invest in a project Draco was idly working on. He was surprised an owl was sent to him. No one typically sent messages via owl anymore, favouring telephones. He was surprised again by who the owl was from.

_Importance: Urgent._

_Meet at 249 Akeland, apartment 6._

_Today, 11:30pm_

_Arrive alone._

_-Harry J. Potter_

It was handwritten. Draco knew it was definitely not Potter's. Where Potter's was long, this was short and slanted. The sprawl wasn't close to the same in school. He knew it couldn't change that much in just a few years. He also knew Potter wasn't very formal, even to Draco. He was awkward, still, and goofy. Something didn't quite sit right with Draco, but he decided he'd go anyway. After all, now he was curious.

* * *

Draco arrived on time to 249 Akeland St, apartment 6. The lights were dark and everything was eerily silent. With his wand at the ready in his shirt sleeve, he knocked on the apartment door.

It opened as his knuckle touched it.

He pulled his wand and arm out of his sleeve and kept it in front of his body, casting a protection barrier around his body. He may never have completed his Auror training due to the authorities deeming unfit because of his involvement in the war, but he had most of the training and all the smarts. He walked slowly from room to room, finding nothing suspicious and no one along the way.

As he reached the room farthest from the door, the bathroom, he heard an ear popping _BOOM_ a millisecond before bright fire erupted from all around him. His magic barrier had been broken through, though it survived worst of the explosion. He was now lying on the bottom floor rather than the third floor, where apartment 6 had stood. He cast the strongest non-dark magic protection spell he knew before he thought to try to put the small flames that had started in on his sweater. A quick spell put those out too.

His instinct was to get out of the building as fast as he could, and would have been his plan, had he not heard screaming coming from a floor above him. Despite his instincts telling him to  _RUN YOU IDIOT, RUN_ he found himself making his way, quickly, to the steps to get to the screaming. The same voice telling him to run way now saying  _you idiot, run the OTHER way!_

He was on the second floor, looking at apartment 3 and 4 when he noticed his wand was broken and charred. He couldn't preform any more spells with it, and he had about 60 seconds to find where the screaming was coming from and get them the _fuck_ out of here before the building collapsed.

He picked apartment 4 and prayed that either he picked the right room or had enough time to search the other one as well.

It took him ten seconds of running from room to room to realize two things. One: he had picked the right room, and two: his magic barrier hadn't protected him as much as he thought. As much as he hoped. 

In the dining room of apartment three, he found an unconscious Potter, tied up and gagged, with a muffled-screaming Molly. It took him a total of 30 seconds to untie Molly and pick Potter up from the ground to his arms. He tried to disapparate but found himself unable. His magic felt weaker, whereas five seconds ago it was practically bursting from his skin, leaving it red hot in colour. He blamed it momentarily on adrenaline. The air was thick and heavy with smoke as the place around them was burning to the ground. They had twenty seconds to find a way out into safety.

His ribs hurt horribly, there was blood running down his stomach and legs, and every move he made hurt him worse and worse. Molly was the one to pull Draco towards her as she broke a window. They jumped onto a canopy below as the third and second floor collapsed. They rolled off the canopy to the ground, taking cover in an alleyway behind it. Molly disapparated them straight to the Burrow. Later, when asked about it, she didn't know _why_ she didn't go straight to St. Mungos.

Draco dropped Potter on the floor, disoriented from the pain and the disapparation. He winced as he heard him in the floor but couldn't dwell on it too long before he found himself hitting the floor, passing out from pain and blood loss.

* * *

 

It was two weeks before Potter woke up in a hospital bed, disoriented and confused. His head hurt, but that wasn't unusual. He sat up and put his hand on his head, looking around. This _definitely_ wasn't home. This looked like St. Mungos, and he seemed to be sharing a room with someone. He couldn't make out any features without his glasses, but the face looked familiar.

He got up and went to the bathroom first thing. When he got back, he had planned on calling for a doctor, but one had come in upon seeing him awake. He tried his hardest to remember what he may have done to get stuck in the hospital, but came out with nothing.

"Mr. Potter, you're up." It was a female, brown headed with brown eyes. She stood as straight as an arrow, as if trying to compensate for her height (because she was quite tiny, looking to be maybe 5 feet tall, if you were being generous.) "Do you know where you are?"

"I would assume I'm in the hospital."

"Assume?"

"I _know_ I'm in the hospital. What I don't know is why."

"Do you know the date?"

"It's the 2nd of December."

"It's the 15th of December. You were involved in a nasty fire along with two other people. I'm sure someone else can fill you in better, I'm just here to make sure you know of your condition. One of the people you were with saved your life, to be frank with you. We don't know if he knew it at the time or not, but he saved you by using magic, without a wand, by the looks of it. We've never seen this before, it hasn't happened in centuries. What comes with this is temporary bondage to one another-- usually a few days, once both of you have recovered." She paused to look at his face. "I'll have to ask you to answer a few questions now, if you're feeling up to it. I recommend you are, it'll help us fix him so you can both leave."

"Sorry, can you tell me who _him_ is?"

"We assumed, Mr. Potter, that he was a.. lover of yours. Is this not the case?"

"Obviously not, I've no idea who it is."

"The only recorded cases of this happening is between two people deeply rooted together, either magically, like with marriage, or through soul. It's queer you wouldn't know who this is."

"Would you get around to telling me any time soon?"

"Draco Malfoy, sir."

* * *

 

Draco dreamt for what felt like years. He knew he was dreaming, though he couldn't control it. Nothing specific was going on, but he was bored to death. Sometimes there were imagines and phrases that came through his head that made sense to him, but most of the time it was just... nothingness. Later on, he wouldn't remember the nothingness, but in the moment, it felt like he could live his life three times over in the time it was taking to wake up.

It was only a few days after Potter woke up that Draco did as well. It was a slow waking up, he was still sleepy and not entirely sure if he was awake or if he was dreaming up what he saw. In a bed across from him lay Potter, wet curls shining against his face, sleeping heavenly, moonlight shining on him. He felt a yearning inside of him and a pull to get up and go to him, but that was ridiculous. Besides, this had to be a dream, why would Potter be-

_Oh. The fire._

He sat up and then stood up slowly, realizing he-- _they--_ were in the hospital. In the same room. He got up and went to the bathroom.

The noise must have woken up Potter, because he was sitting up when Draco came out. Draco wasn't sure how to feel. He was sure Potter didn't, either.

"Hullo." It felt strange to hear Potter address him directly. He almost felt like he did at conferences with officials. Nervous but confident. After all, he _saved_ Potter, didn't he? Molly, too.

"Hullo. Date?"

"Huh?"

"What's the date, Potter."

"Oh. December 18th."

He had lost almost three weeks? Was that the feeling of denial or curiosity in his stomach? "How is Molly?":

"She's.. Yeah, good. Rope burns on her wrists and ankles, but alright."

Draco sat back on his bed. His ribs still hurt. "You didn't send the owl to my house."

"Owl?"

"Telling me to meet you at the place that blew up."

"Oh. No."

A man of little words, Draco scoffed to himself. He was feeling irritable. This conversation didn't feel it was going to go anywhere and a headache was forcing its way to him. He lifted his hospital shirt to reveal a bandage over his ribs. He felt foreign magic working its way inside his body, but felt absence of his own. He paused. He didn't feel his magic _at all._ He lifted his hand and tried to blow a paper off the desk with his magic, easily done wandlessly by all adults. It didn't move.

"It won't work. I mean, I can feel you trying. I'm sure you can feel mine on your ribs there. Took a pipe through the ribs, then carried me, jumped out of a window, and disapparated to the Burrow. Well, Molly disapparated us. They said.." Potter trailed off, pausing for a second, looking off out the window behind Draco. "Said you transferred your magic to me and saved my life. So, thank you."

Draco shook his head. "That can't be what happened. We aren't married and we haven't spoken since.. What you're talking about, it's nearly impossible for most people, even if they're magically bound already."

"I would have been out of here days ago if I didn't have to stay near you because of it, Malfoy."

"There's been a mistake, it's as simple as that." He called the doctor, the same one that had spoken to Potter about it, in. They decided the only way to test it was to separate the two of them. If they couldn't go more than 50 feet from each other, it was the only solution.

Draco was distressed when he couldn't will himself farther than halfway down the hall from Potter. Being physically moved hadn't helped either. The pain in his ribs got worse and he was left gasping for air, unable to breathe.

"I'm afraid you are, as we thought, temporarily bonded. You're both free to go, however. We have no more tests we need to run here and if either of your conditions worsen, you'll come back." It wasn't a question. They nodded.

Molly and Narcissa arrived at the same time. Everyone agreed that the Malfoy's was the best place to go. There was plenty of room and a few house elves still there (now paid, which Draco was glad for.) It was daylight by the time Narcissa apparated them to the Malfoy Manor.

"Is there a spare room near yours, dear?" Narcissa asked, addressing Draco.

"No, but I can double my bed so we both-" he paused, remembering he had no magic to use. "I'll ask one of the house elves to do it, at any rate. If that's okay with you, Potter."

"Yes, that's alright, I suppose.."

Within ten minutes of being home, Draco and Potter were both in their respective bed, 10 feet from each other, sleeping soundly.

* * *

"Sir, honestly, I just need another chance. The Malfoy boy bonded himself to Potter, no one could have forseen that!"

"I'm becoming tired of your excuses. You come here telling me you've taken out Malfoy, Potter, and one of the Weasley's, yet they live. I've grown tired of this game. You've lost too many times."

"No, sir, please! I just need one more chance! I know how I can appease you, Great King, please-"

"Grovelling doesn't suit my worthy disciples. Game over. _Avada kedavra_!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR GIVING IT A READ! I would absolutely love for you to leave a comment telling me how I could improve so my writing can be the absolute best it can be! Un-beta'd, so please don't be too harsh on my mistakes. ^^ I hope you enjoyed it, I try my best to update weekly (though this was only a few days after my first part.) I appreciate you all so much! Message me on kik @ooneonstarsoo or on dirtypanic.tumblr.com if you wanna talk about my story, give me ideas or beta for me, or give me some tips on my writing. ^^ Next chapter is a Christmas chapter, my friends!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm going to try to post weekly (and if you wanna beta for me, my kik is ooneonstarsoo and my tumblr is dirtypanic.tumblr.com) I would appreciate it so much if you could comment some mistakes I made or improvements I could make so that my writing is the absolute best it can be! ^^


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